


In the Trenches

by SirRobin126



Category: Blackadder
Genre: Blowjobs, Established Relationship, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, PWP, sorry - Freeform, there isn't a great deal of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirRobin126/pseuds/SirRobin126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither captains Blackadder nor Darling can sleep. So the only possible recourse is a secret rendezvous in the trenches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Trenches

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if this was edited by anyone other than me so oh well, lets see how we go.

Captain Edmund Blackadder stared at the roof of his wooden prison. The lieutenant was snoring in a cot on the other side of the room and Private Baldrick was coughing roughly from under it.  
A clock ticked in the corner of the room providing an irritating counterpoint to the dull roar of gunfire, audible from the German lines.  
Blackadder’s moustache scratched the underside of his nose, it was getting absurdly bushy. Unfortunately General Sir Frog-for-brains Melchett didn’t think it was safe for soldiers have razor sharp instruments in the camp, something about deadly objects being bad for morale.  
He turned onto his side, scratching his nose as he did so. There was a hole in the roof and an annoying drip was forming into an impressive puddle on the floor. From this position he could see the open doorway into the trench. He decided that was rather too depressing, even for a war-zone. He turned to face the other side, finding that watching a spider crawl half-heartedly up the wall was marginally more interesting than counting the wooden beams of the roof. Of which there were, incidentally, 53, as had been confirmed on countless other occasions.

 

Captain Darling lay slumped over his desk. As a fly landed on his cheek he jerked awake with a shout. Quickly he looked around and reassured himself that he was, in fact, in his office. He stared at the hands of his clock, it took him a while to focus but eventually he pieced together that it was 3 am. He groaned and rubbed his face.  
The paper on top of the pile on his desk was smudged with black ink. He searched for the source and found that he had been resting on one of his pens, which had burst, spreading ink all over his paper.  
Stretching, he sat up properly in his chair and tried to remember what he’d been doing. The papers on his desk were nearly incomprehensible. He attempted to fill in a form for the General’s moustache clipping appointment but gave up at the start when he couldn’t remember his own first name.  
Darling stood up and gasped as his stiff joints straightened out. His shoulders felt locked, he rolled them and heard a multitude of little cracks. A product of constant stress, and constant stress was an occupational hazard.  
He strode around the room a few times, trying to loosen his muscles, coming to a stop in front of his large gilded mirror. He stared at the image in stony acceptance. The ink had leaked over the right side of his face and through his moustache.  
He tried cleaning it with his jacket lapel, but ended up just smearing the ink around his face and dirtying his collar. Giving up on trying to rub it off, he looked out the window. The rain outside fell in dull, miserable waves, not hard, just constant, unrelenting waves.  
Darling sighed and put on his raincoat, it may not be the best plan but he wasn’t going to leave that ink to dry on his face.  
He stepped outside and was immediately drenched. The raincoat did very little to protect his now soaking feet and the little plastic cap on his hat was completely pointless. Yes, it’s all very well to keep one’s hat dry, but it’s damn silly if you have to become a goldfish in the process.  
He turned his face up to the sky and tried to let the water wash it. Within seconds, however, the water ran painfully down into his eyes and he had to stop.  
He made to move back inside but once at the door he changed his mind; he never could go to sleep after waking up this early. Instead he turned on his heel, lit a cigarette and began walking to his car, the driver of which was attempting to sleep in his seat. 

Blackadder sat on his bed and scratched his head. He yawned half-heartedly and widened his eyes to their fullest extent. The dregs of sleep were escaping him, leaving him awake, alert and utterly annoyed. It was bad enough he had to suffer through this bloody war in the day, surely he should be allowed some respite in the night.  
Their little shelter suddenly seemed incredibly stifling. He let out a growl as he stormed out of the door.  
The rain splashed off the trench wall and added to the raging stream flowing about his ankles. Water beat down on his head and shoulders, running down the length of his body before storing itself neatly in his woollen socks. He pulled his military overcoat around him tighter and leant against a nearby ladder.  
Lazily he glanced around, stopping abruptly when he noticed a figure to his left. He narrowed his eyes, unsuccessfully attempting to make out the shape edging towards him. Giving up, he settled back onto the ladder and waited for the shambling creature to come to him.  
The shambling creature in question became clearer as it came closer. The twitching eye and the weedy moustache were unmistakable. As the red dot of his cigarette was flicked aside, the face behind it was unmasked and Blackadder had to stifle a laugh.

“Darling, how good to see you.” Blackadder choked out, having spent sometime attempting to overcome the sudden burst of humour.  
“T-That’s Caaptain Darling to you Blaackaddder. How-w are you?” Darling’s eye twitched with embarrassment.  
“I am as happy as King Edward the Second the moment after his question ‘Oh my, that’s an awfully hot poker, what are you planning to do with that?’ was answered.” Blackadder smirked as Captain Darling smiled in spite of himself.  
“Now Darling, what are you doing around here at this time of night? People are sure to talk.”  
Darling glanced nonchalantly at a spot above Blackadder’s shoulder “I-I was in the arrea, and thought I d-drop by.”  
“And it had nothing to do with me at all?”  
“T-that’s ridiculous Captain Blaaackadder, I j-just happennned to be out-t for a walk and then m-my chauffeur drove me to a rrrandom loc-cation that-t happened to be –” Blackadder reached out and put his hand over the other man’s mouth. Darling reached up and took the hand from his mouth, letting it fall but keeping a hold of it. “W-well iff you won’t let-t me talk thenn you’ll h-have to k-kiss me Blaaackadder.”  
“Well there’s the problem Darling. I have a choice, which side of your face to turn to. It’d have to be the squiffy eye or the boot polish and you know how I am with hard decisions.” Blackadder gave a huge mock sigh and Darling’s eye twitched ferociously as he remembered the lasting effects of the ink incident.  
“Y-you have no c-choice Blaackadder, it’s ann order dammit!”  
“Well then, you know how I am with orders.”  
Darling flushed and his face was in danger of becoming seriously askew if he twitched anymore. “Oh god,” sighed Blackadder and sensing that no instigation was forthcoming on Darling’s part he tossed the cap with the plastic sheath aside and grabbed the other man’s hair, roughly pulling him into a kiss.

Darling’s hands fluttered around Blackadder’s chest and waist, trying to find a sufficient handhold. Eventually they settled on simply hanging onto his neck as Blackadder supported his back. They remained locked in this position until Blackadder had to come up for air, he did so with an exaggerated gasp, untwining Darling’s hands from his neck.  
Darling stumbled back and in the gloom, fell onto the trench ladder, which unbalanced him further. He threw out his arms as the ground moved swiftly towards him, to no great effect. He found himself sprawled on the muddy trench floor, his coat rapidly absorbing the soaking muck and the back of his head and neck coated with grime. He lay there, a hand up to stop the rain splattering his face, and listened to the muffled laughter from a captain-shaped shadow.  
“Y-yes itt’s all v-very f-ffunny i-isn’t it Blaaackadder?”  
“I’m glad you think so Darling.” The shadow moved closer and Captain Blackadder’s face was once again illuminated.  
“W-well, youu might a-as well help m-me up.” Darling grumbled from the ground.  
“No. I don’t think so.” 

Blackadder crouched down beside Captain Darling and swung his leg over Darling’s prostrate form. His knees sank into the ground as he leaned forward, the wet mud giving way easily.  
He took hold of Darling’s lapels, balling the fabric in his hands and yanking Darling upwards. Blackadder inhaled the enduring smell of tobacco as he pushed his mouth heavily against Darling’s, rainwater running between them. His lips shifted and his tongue began to venture forth.  
Darling’s hands resisted and pushed against his chest, surprised he let go and Darling fell back to the ground, hard.  
The slightly winded Darling looked disapprovingly up at him before slowly lifting a hand to curl through Blackadder’s hair. Once again Blackadder ground his mouth against Darling’s. Then Darling’s finger was between their mouths, preventing Blackadder from touching. Abruptly the grip tightened on his hair and locked him in place.  
Darling then oh so gradually lifted his head from the soggy floor and with the lightest of touches brushed his lips over Blackadder’s.  
Blackadder groaned and made to move forward but with a sharp yank stayed where he was. A slightly harder press this time and the wisps of Darling’s moustache were tickling Blackadder’s nose. The corners of Darling’s mouth curled into a smile and Blackadder could feel the hot puffs of air from silent laughter warming his throat.  
He found himself gritting his teeth and willed himself to stay still. He was growing warmer and the gentle way with which Darling was teasing his mouth open was unbearable. He wanted to tear clothes, press bodies and use the mouth that Darling was so keen to keep wanting. He so desperately wanted to use his mouth.  
Darling’s kisses had retreated to cheeks and neck. Blackadder’s breathing heavied. Darling’s warm mouth was searing his skin and he could feel the lingering impression it had left on his lips.  
His knees tightened as he could feel Darling hardening behind him.  
Finally a tongue ventured into Blackadder’s mouth. It achingly slowly explored and those aches ran down his body. He stared forward; water was beading on Darling’s eyebrows. He concentrated on a droplet that wavered on the very tip to try and keep himself steady. An action it turned out, in vain, as a hand pushed against his crotch. He let out a growl and jerked back, leaning on Darling who gasped involuntarily.  
Blackadder’s breathe was haggard and his trousers tightening.  
“Finished playing?”  
Darling didn’t answer as thoughts were forsaken in lieu of Blackadder currently grinding against his cock. His body tensed and his head drove into the ground, not bothered by the mud matting his hair.  
Blackadder smiled and shifted position, enjoying the reaction it elicited. He lifted himself off of Darling to bring himself to a kneeling position between Darling’s outstretched legs.  
There was a flurry of movement and then Blackadder’s fingers hooked under Darling’s waistband and yanked down his trousers, the fabric pooling about his knees. Underwear provided only slight resistance to Blackadder’s firm hands. With an audible tearing sound they came loose and Blackadder’s head immediately swooped down.  
His lips wrapped around Darling’s cock. A pained gasp came from Darling and Blackadder bobbed up. He glanced apologetically at Darling and resumed, remembering this time to cover his teeth.  
Darling arched, grabbing fistfuls of Blackadder’s uniform as his tongue dragged over the head.  
All at once the sensations ceased and Darling’s head snapped up. Blackadder’s hand was cupped, collecting rain. He brought his palm to Darling’s cock, wetting the length. His hand twisted and stroked, rough calluses kneading from base to tip.  
Darling shivered, cool wind was raising goosebumps on his exposed skin.  
The wetness of Blackadder’s mouth was warm against the cold rainwater and Darling could sense himself relaxing. His muscles, constantly tense, were loosening. Sharp pangs of pleasure spread through his body, each pang leaving him shuddering and sensitive to the blood thumping in his newly eased shoulder blades. 

The top of Darling’s cock slid against the roof of Blackadder’s mouth and pressed into his throat. Blood throbbed through the both of them, the sound merging in Blackadder’s ears with the still prevailing roar of gunfire until it began to disappear. All Blackadder could feel was Darling beneath him, rolling and reacting to his touch.  
His head moved steadily, taking Darling further in with each stroke. His rhythm quickened, nose meeting damp hair as his strokes lengthened. 

Neither was able to determine how much time had passed when, Darling scrabbling at the dirt and Blackadder’s short fingernails digging into Darling’s hips, Darling finally tipped over the edge. Blackadder lifted his head with one last forceful drag of his tongue and wiped his mouth as Darling came, thighs slick and panting heavily. 

Darling’s entire body softened and his eyes fell closed, the weight of his lack of sleep fully realising itself. If it had not been for Blackadder carefully refastening his trousers (the underwear was too far gone for repair) and the rough hand gently grasping his elbow he would have fallen back to sleep then and there. His head was swimming and his privates tender. 

Blackadder lifted him to his feet and all but carried him back to his car. Pouring him into the seat and nodding at the driver.  
“Sorry he’s so woozy, he’s had a bit to drink see. Big party down there, Pope’s soirée, boy can he put it away.” He scoffed in mock reminiscence as the driver looked at him unimpressed. “Alright then.” He closed the door and the car immediately moved off.

Captain Darling spilled out of his seat and stood outside the building. He rolled his neck and shoulders feeling nothing but lightheaded. He opened the door and somehow made it into his bed. There he collapsed, not caring that his back was muddying the covers. As he drifted off his hand wandered to his face, a distant memory of some problem stirring him. Unable to remember what it was he let his hand fall. His vague concern was unnecessary as it turned out that the unfortunate ink had washed from his face, leaving him, if not completely clean, at least refreshed.

Captain Blackadder flopped onto his cot and lowered his trousers. All thoughts of dripping water and gunfire erased he could think only of Darling’s writhing. His mind filled with warm body, smell and taste as he kneaded and stroked, biting his left-hand to keep from shouting.  
His eyes shut and remained that way as he worked. And in almost no time he’d finished. His breath began to even out and his tightly closed eyes softened.  
The roar of rain and gunfire continued above him as Captain Edmund Blackadder fell asleep.


End file.
